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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28564083">Christmas at the Lassiters</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cynicalkairos/pseuds/cynicalkairos'>cynicalkairos</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Psych (TV 2006)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bickering, Christmas Fluff, Established Relationship, F/F, First Christmas, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Idiots in Love, M/M, Meeting the Parents, Moving In Together, Past Relationship(s), also, althea and mona lassiter are highly underrated, they need more attention</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 03:27:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,253</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28564083</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cynicalkairos/pseuds/cynicalkairos</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What can possibly go wrong when Shawn accidentally got invited over for Christmas to meet Carlton's mother after Shawn picked up a call from her while Carlton was at work?</p><p>Let me answer this one for you: Carlton's weird knowledge of random subjects, heart-to-heart conversations, and death threats.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Althea/Mona Lassiter, Carlton Lassiter/Shawn Spencer, past Carlton Lassiter/Victoria Lassiter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>113</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Christmas at the Lassiters</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I know, I know, I know. It is 2021 and way past Christmas. It just have horrible timing when it comes for creative inspiration, so here you go.</p><p>This happens some time in the middle of season 4 for your reference.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>——— <i>December 23</i> ———</p><p>“Shawn?” Carlton Lassiter called into his apartment after coming back home from work, briefcase in his hand.</p><p>“In here!” The voice sounded from the kitchen.</p><p>The detective immediately placed down his briefcase by the door and strided to the kitchen. He walked in to see his partner?— no, that’s O’Hara’s title— his lover?— oh God no—  his boyfriend?— well, they never really talked about it— his Shawn cooking dinner. To Carlton’s surprise, the food wasn’t burnt. It actually smelled good and, from the first impression, it looked like it didn’t have any pineapple in it.</p><p>Upon hearing the click of his footsteps approach, Shawn looked over to see his detective staring at him in a mixture of awe and confusion. He flashed his bright, toothy smile at the sight and greeted him by saying, “Hey, honey! How’s work?”</p><p>“‘Honey?’ That’s the best you could come up with? You know what? Don’t answer that—” Carlton shot back as he attempted to peer into the pan, only to be pushed back with a spoon. “Hey! What gives?”</p><p>“I wanted to surprise you.”</p><p>“Oh.” A blush crept up the detective’s cheeks and he looked away to prevent the psychic from seeing. Even though in the back of his head he knew that Shawn did in fact see, Carlton walked back over to the psychic and embraced him from behind, his head burying into his neck only to receive a chuckle from the other man. The gruff, stern detective with a permanent frown on his face was always cuddly after a long day at the station no matter how much he tried to deny it. He tried to look again, the psychic knowingly reacting by elbowing him gently in the stomach, before mentioning, “So, I got a phone call from my mother today.”</p><p>“Mmhm.”</p><p>“Do you know anything about it?”</p><p>“No, nothing at all.”</p><p>“Hm, strange,” the detective mused once he gave up trying to look in the pan, the vibrations rumbling against his neck, as he pressed a kiss on the area. “She mentioned that, and I quote, she ‘had a nice chat with your boyfriend’ today.”</p><p>“Lassie! I didn’t know you had a boyfriend! Why didn’t you tell me?” Shawn exclaimed, abandoning his cooking for a moment to turn around and wrap his arms around the very unamused man with a very amused look on his face. “Okay, okay, I might have answered the phone while you were at work. It’s not my fault your home phone doesn’t have a Caller ID.”</p><p>“Spencer—”</p><p>“Come on, we’ve been together for about six months now. She’s bound to find out about us one way or another!”</p><p>Carlton grimaced because he knew Shawn was right and untangled himself from the psychic to go set the table. “I know, but I thought we agreed to do this after Christmas.”</p><p>“We did,” Shawn took that as the sign to start plating dinner and sighed, “But I couldn’t stand you moping around because you couldn’t see your mom for Christmas.”</p><p>The detective jabbed a fork over at the psychic in a very adult manner, saying defensively, “I was not moping around!”</p><p>“Babe, you watched Titanic like five times in a row this weekend. I think that counts as ‘moping around,’” Shawn retorted, bringing over the two plates for them and setting them on the table. “While I thought it was cute and oddly heartwarming, you cried over Rose letting go every time.”</p><p>Carlton simply glared at him, before looking down at the table to inspect what Shawn made. It was a seared chicken dish with what appeared to be some type of barbecue glaze and, of course, pineapples. He cracked a very small smile despite the situation, and sat down to begin eating.</p><p>To try to ease the tense situation, Shawn sat down as well and relented, hoping it would make Carlton feel better. “You know, we could always cancel—”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“What? I thought you didn’t want to do this.”</p><p>“I don’t,” Carlton clarified, taking a bite before continuing, “However, if there is anything my mother hates more than the IRS and National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, it’s people who cancel at the last minute. And, considering Christmas Eve is tomorrow, I don’t think it’s a good idea to cancel.”</p><p>Starting to eat as well, the other man nodded, piecing together what the plan was. “So, we’re going?”</p><p>“As much as I hate to say it, yes.” Shawn smiled and perked up visibly in his seat, prompting Carlton to say, “I have to warn you. She’s incredibly… overprotective when it comes to the romantic prospects in my life.”</p><p>“I grew up with Henry, Carlytown. I should be fine.”</p><p>The detective let out a grim laugh, a smile spreading across his face. “Oh, you have no idea.”</p><p>"Please, she can't be that bad," Shawn said incredulously, reaching over with his fork to snag a piece of his chicken. "Besides, I have lots of experience charming mothers across the land."</p><p>"First of all," Carlton started with a roll of his eyes and batted away the fork with his own. “I don't think your 'charms' will work.”</p><p>“Yeah, and why’s that? They managed to win over one Lassiter. What’s stopping me from winning over two?”</p><p>“Well, she’s not necessarily into men, Shawn.”</p><p>It took a minute for the psychic to process what he said and then it clicked. “Oh, she’s a lesbian.”</p><p>“Well, yes and no,” Carlton answered, jabbing at his chicken once more and pointed the meat at Shawn to stop himself from getting distracted. “Anyway, second of all, when she met Victoria for the first time, she threatened her with a machete if she ever hurt me."</p><p>"That doesn't sound too bad—"</p><p>"After she heard about our separation, I got a call from Victoria that said she showed up at her doorstep with said machete."</p><p>Shawn choked on his piece of chicken he successfully snagged and took a deep breath, before finally saying, "Oh, shit. I'm screwed."</p><p>With a big, wide, somewhat terrifying smile, the detective looked up at his psychic. "Yes, I'm afraid you are."</p><p>——— <i>December 24</i> ———</p><p>“Lassie, you’re going to your mom’s house, not the station. Ditch the tie.”</p><p>“This is a formal occasion, Shawn—”</p><p>“It’s Christmas Eve dinner. You look like you’re about to be in a Christmas pageant,” the psychic reasoned, reaching over to the detective and placing his hands on his shoulders to settle him. “Look, I know you’re nervous, but she’s your mom. She’s seen you naked more times than I have.”</p><p>“I am going to forget you just said that.” Carlton furrowed his brow and gaped in mouth in disgust as he processed what Shawn just said. “But, I see your point. I’ll lose the tie.”</p><p>Shawn slid his hands down the detective’s sides and landed on his lapels. “And the shoulder holster.”</p><p>“And the—” Carlton stopped mid-sentence and stared at him, completely offended. “Now, you’re pushing it.”</p><p>The psychic simply raised his eyebrows and glanced down to the area of the suit that covered the holsters, meeting the detective’s intent gaze. Then, knowing that this tactic would surely sway him, Shawn tugged on his lapels and kissed his lips gently, but with purpose. He smiled against his lips when he felt Carlton melt underneath him and placed his hands on his hips to pull him closer.</p><p>At that moment, Shawn pulled away to whisper reassuringly, “You don’t need to worry. If you want, I’ll compromise with the ankle holster.”</p><p>Carlton laughed lightly, a refreshing sound to the psychic’s ears. “I think that is reasonable.”</p><p>“Okay, let’s get this off then,” he said when he reached up to take off the taller man’s tie, only to be swatted away. </p><p>“You know, if you do that, we will definitely be late to dinner,” the detective replied quietly and gruffly as he struggled to untie the knot. </p><p>Shawn was blown away by the simultaneous subtle flirt and challenge. He didn’t know whether to just back off or rise to the challenge, but, with some serious mental willpower, Shawn stood to the side and watched as the detective took off his tie and his jacket. Then he unfastened his holster, placing the guns in the safe and the holster on its hook in the closet.</p><p>And Shawn just stood there. Watching. Waiting. Not believing that he actually wasn’t pouncing on the man undressing before him. It was torture.</p><p>After smoothing down his shirt and throwing the jacket back on, Carlton turned to Shawn and held out his arms for a final check. “There. Is that informal enough for you?”</p><p>Shawn ran his eyes up and down the other. It was simple, yet completely Lassiter: a black suit jacket with black suit pants, a white dress shirt, but his casual gentleman’s shoe. The look made him smile. He actually was wearing his informal clothes.</p><p>“It looks good. You… look really good,” Shawn stammered out, flustered by his appearance alone. Informal was a good look on him. “There’s only one tiny, little thing.”</p><p>Carlton frowned and inspected himself. “What are you talking about?”</p><p>“This,” the psychic said as he walked over and unbuttoned the top two buttons on his shirt. “There you go. Perfect. Just the right ratio of sternumbush to shirt.”</p><p>Looking between his newly unbuttoned shirt and Shawn, the detective blushed. Then he looked at the other man up and down, causing him to frown and inspect himself as well.</p><p>“Is there something wrong with my outfit? I can change the green, red, and yellow plaid shirt for the red, yellow, and green plaid shirt,” he said, watching confusedly as the smirk continued to grow on the detective’s face. </p><p>“Oh, no, sweetheart, I was only admiring the view,” Carlton responded proudly, striding past him and pausing at the doorway to look back at the blushing psychic. “Pick your jaw off the floor, Spencer. We best not be late.”</p><p>“Coming!” Shawn called out, grabbing his jacket off the bed and running after him with a large smile on his face, mumbling to himself, “That fucking tease.”</p><p>By this point, both of them couldn’t tell whether the hard thumping in their chest was the stress, anxiety, or glee for the dinner that was going to happen.</p><p>Making their way to his mother’s house, Carlton’s finger tapped against the steering wheel rhythmically, not necessarily playing a distinct tune, but Shawn recognized the beat as the beat to his “danger music.”</p><p>To help ease him, Shawn reached over and placed his hand on Carlton’s knee, rubbing the area with his thumb. He heard the detective release a deep breath and relax even if it was just a little under his touch. </p><p>“Okay, ground rules,” Carlton started and raised his hand, knowing that the other man would start to complain, “Calm down. There’s only one.”</p><p>“Only one? You’re going soft, babe.” Shawn teased and squeezed his knee.</p><p>“Am not.”</p><p>“Are too,” the psychic countered, retracting his hand to fumble with his phone in his pocket. “Do I need to bring up Titanic again?”</p><p>“There was enough room on the raft and you know it!” Carlton accented his point by wagging a finger at the man next to him. When he glanced over at Shawn to see him raising an eyebrow at him, the detective rolled his eyes that softened immediately. “Fine, fine, whatever. One ground rule.”</p><p>“Okay, I can do that. Lay it on me.”</p><p>“None of your psychic bullshit.”</p><p>“But, Lassie!”</p><p>“No buts.” Carlton wiggled his fingers against his temple like Shawn did at all of his crime scenes. “I will not have you do whatever it is you do in front of my mother and Althea.”</p><p>“You’re no fun,” Shawn complained, retracting his hand in defiance and crossing his arms over his chest. “Then what do I say when she asks how we met?”  </p><p>Stopped at the spotlight, Carlton looked over to him and raised an eyebrow at his behavior. “I told her that you’re a consultant with the SBPD, no powers or anything.”</p><p>“Oh?” The psychic said incredulously. “You’re not saying that we first met when you arrested me?”</p><p>“I never arrested you. I might have wanted to, but I never did.”</p><p>“Well, you almost did.”</p><p>“What are you talking about?”</p><p>“You know, back in ‘95? When you had that horrible moustache?”</p><p>“It was a great moustache— wait.” The head detective’s eyes went wide and he glanced over to him. Carlton frowned as he racked his brain to remember. ‘95 was the time he had the moustache, the girlfriend, and the newly-instated officer title. “Terribly-mannered, long-haired kid with the earring that winked at me before Henry booked him for stealing his neighbor’s car. That was you?”</p><p>“Yep,” Shawn said with a pop on the ‘p,’ smiling over to him. “You seriously remember me winking at you?”</p><p>The detective glanced over at the psychic, the bright headlights of passing cars illuminating the blush on his cheeks. “Maybe.”</p><p>“You are adorable, Lassie. Totally adorable.”</p><p>“You take that back.”</p><p>“No can do, babe. I will totally hold this against you,” Shawn replied, typing something into his phone rapidly and grinning with childish glee. “I never knew you had a thing for earrings. What’s next? You like tongue piercings too?”</p><p>Carlton’s hands gripped the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles popped and his face somehow got even redder, managing to mumble through gritted teeth, “Shut up, Spencer.”</p><p>“All you, Lassie. I’ll just need to get something outta the bathroom when we get back,” Shawn said, a satisfied smirk on his lips. He always loved riling up the detective. Well, that and the sweet, sweet results of riling him up. “You want to tell the story of my dad embarrassing you during your first week and the fact you found me hot even back then to your mom?”</p><p>Carlton shrugged after second thought. “It’s better than me almost arresting you and not doing so because apparently you’re psychic.”</p><p>The couple pulled up into the driveway and the detective parked, his hands then frozen on the steering wheel. </p><p>Shawn looked over and raised an eyebrow. Seeing how tense the other man was, he put his hand on his shoulder. In response, Carlton surged forward and kissed the psychic desperately as if this kiss was the cure for all of his fear and anxiety for what the dinner might hold. His hands cupped both sides of Shawn’s face and pressed him back into the seat. </p><p>Carlton pulled away as quickly as the kiss came and then stared into his eyes, the blue irises darting back and forth. If he didn’t know better, Shawn could have sworn he was memorizing his expression at this moment. “I love you, you know that, right?”</p><p>Shawn smiled up at him, gently caressing the smooth skin on his cheek. </p><p>They weren’t really ones to tell each other those three words rather than show it. They knew the weight of those words and they’ve endured the burden of those words. Because of this, Carlton ever really told Shawn with his words if he was really tired or drunk, but the little touches throughout the day and his endearing overprotective nature screamed his love for the other man without needing to say anything. Hearing those words out of his mouth and knowing how serious this situation was to his detective caused Shawn to lean up and peck his lips. </p><p>“I love you too, babe.” Shawn squirmed underneath him until the detective sat back in his seat and they climbed out of the car, grabbing the bag of gifts out of the trunk. Locking up the car, they headed up to the porch, Shawn turning to Carlton and saying before his mother opened the door, “I can’t wait to see all of your baby pictures. You seemed like an adorable baby.”</p><p>“Damn right I was. Even then—” Carlton simply scoffed and shook his head, frowning. Then immediately when his mother opened the door, he smiled brightly as if he was a completely different person and said, “Mother, hey!”</p><p>“Booker!” The older lady said, greeting him with an awkward hug as the detective was nearly a foot taller than her. </p><p>From first glance, Shawn couldn’t believe that such a kind-looking, small woman could make the clusterfuck that was Carlton Lassiter. But, he learned quickly where his detective got his… panache— his sparkle.</p><p>The psychic noticed this sparkle when he turned from his beloved Lassie to see Ms. Lassiter looking at the psychic with a stern eyebrow raised. “Is this Shawn?”</p><p>Carlton turned to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Yes, this is—”</p><p>“Hello, ma’am,” Shawn interrupted him energetically with his usual cheesy grin. He then stepped forward and held out his hand, procuring a pineapple from seemingly out of nowhere in the other. “I am indeed Shawn Spencer, pineapple enthusiast, aspiring equestrian, and lover of all things concerning your son.”</p><p>Ms. Lassiter simply stared at Shawn for roughly thirty seconds, pondering his response and how the hell Carlton even liked this lunatic, before she stepped aside and welcomed them in. After Shawn passed by them and handed her the pineapple as a welcoming gift, Ms. Lassiter leaned over to her son (or really vice versa) and asked, “Where the hell did you find him?”</p><p>“He was left on the steps of the SBPD,” Carlton whispered back with an amused smirk, only to earn a smack on the arm from his mother. “Hey, I was only joking.”</p><p>She narrowed her eyes and left him standing in the living room in complete confusion. </p><p>The detective soon walked into the kitchen to find Althea and Shawn laughing over some hot cocoa. </p><p>Ask anyone they knew and they would always say that Althea Taylor was Mona’s better half. While Mona held her power through her short temper and intense gaze, Althea could silence an entire room with a calm wave of her hand. </p><p>The only seemingly threatening part about her was her height. That was the first thing that struck Shawn when he met her. She was nearly as tall as Lassie himself. However, the only difference was that, while his detective seemed to shrink away, Althea held her head high.</p><p>“So, I was telling him, ‘Uh, Lassie, maybe we shouldn’t go into the room with the scary, locked door to find the dead guy.’ And, being the lanky, yet surprisingly spry hero he is, he kicked down the door and ran into the room,” Shawn told her animatedly, the story complete with sound effects and dramatic gestures. Carlton could only watch fondly, a small smile gracing his lips. “Only to jump back ten feet and scream like a little girl when a rat scurried in front of him.”</p><p>The two doubled down in laughter as the fond smile disappeared quickly when he heard the end and his jaw dropped in disbelief and betrayal. </p><p>“I thought you promised to not tell anyone!” The detective cried out, both Althea and Shawn looking up at him with stifled smiles. </p><p>“It’s okay, babe,” Shawn said when he stood up and walked over to him, patting his arm comfortingly. “All of us were scared of Ratatouille at at least one point of our lives.”</p><p>Carlton raised an eyebrow and glanced down at the hand. “His name’s Remy.”</p><p>“Huh, I thought his name was Ratatouille.”</p><p>“Ratatouille is the name of the dish that the rat named Remy makes.”</p><p>“Then why is the movie called Ratatouille? That just makes it so much more confusing.”</p><p>“Because it’s the dish that saved Gusteau’s restaurant and the dish that united rat-kind and mankind—” Carlton countered passionately, his hands gesturing wildly before suddenly stopping and taking a deep breath. “I am not having this conversation with you right now. I’ll go make us some drinks. Althea, the usual?”</p><p>With a curt nod from the kind-looking woman, the taller man stormed out of the room. That left a worried Shawn standing there with a wide-eyed expression on his face. </p><p>Althea stood up and placed a hand on his shoulder, comforting him by saying, “He’ll be alright. Give him a minute. Carlton’s just… tense around this time of year.”</p><p>“Really? What happened?” Shawn asked, hoping she would shed a light that would help him uncover the inner machinations of his detective’s mind.</p><p>She just sighed and shook her head. “It’s not my place to tell.”</p><p>“Okay,” Shawn said deflated, turning around to look at her and shoving his hands in his pockets. “I just want him to have a good time.”</p><p>“Believe me, this is the best time he’s had in many, many years. I’d say you’re doing just fine.” The psychic gave her a small, hopeful smile as she led him to sit down and took the seat across from him. “So, tell me about yourself. What do you do for a living?”</p><p>“I do a lot of things, Ms…”</p><p>“I already saw Carlton smile because of you. Althea is just fine, dear.”</p><p>“Althea, I have had many jobs in my life. From waiting tables to working as a hippotherapist, I’ve done it all.”</p><p>“Hippotherapist?” She asked, raising her eyebrows to ask if it was a real occupation.</p><p>“Yes,” Shawn affirmed, nodding. Hippotherapist had actually been a word he read off of Gus’s National Geographic magazines. “I psychologically evaluated hippos and I—”</p><p>“Hippotherapists are therapists that use the method of horseback riding as a form of therapy for their patients, Shawn,” Carlton corrected as he walked back into the room with two drinks in his hands and two drinks in the hands of his mother following him. </p><p>Shawn looked over to him and couldn’t help but smile at his acute knowledge of horses, teasing him, “Now, how exactly do you know that?”</p><p>When the detective was reluctant to answer, his mother cared enough to chip in by saying, “Carlton was obsessed with horses when he was a boy, knew everything there was to know about ‘em and apparently still knows everything.”</p><p>Desperate to change the topic of this conversation, said horse lover turned to Althea to address her question from earlier. “Althea, he is actually a consultant at the station. He’s helped us on over fifty cases so far. It’s suffice to say that he’s pretty good at it.”</p><p>“Why, Lassie, you flatter me too much,” Shawn said, smiling at his detective when he placed his drink in front of him and sat down with his own. He definitely didn’t miss the arm instinctively draped across the back of his chair.</p><p>Ms. Lassiter frowned and shared a look with Althea, asking, “Did you just call him ‘Lassie?’ As in the dog?”</p><p>“I sure did, ma’am,” the psychic replied, feeling the glare from Carlton next to him bore into his head and continuing anyway. “He’s loyal, smart, and always down for a good cuddle. Obviously, I’m the big spoon.”</p><p>When he looked over at the man next to him, Shawn smirked as he watched Carlton go red from his cheekbones all the way to the exposed skin under his shirt. The detective only grumbled some incoherent response and looked away, unable to deny any claims without sounding like he was lying. In other words, he failed miserably at defending himself.</p><p>At the sound of laughter from the other side of the table, the two looked over to see Ms. Lassiter herself laughing, Althea joining in after a moment. They both looked at them in wonder. Carlton was confused as to why his mother was laughing, especially at something so mundane. Shawn was merely shocked that he managed to crack Mama Lassiter and so early into the evening.</p><p>“What’s so funny?” Carlton asked his mother and Althea, pointing a finger at the two of them with an intensely furrowed brow. </p><p>Ms. Lassiter leaned over to Althea and whispered loudly to her, “I’m starting to like him.”</p><p>Shawn smiled triumphantly and turned completely to Carlton, smacking him in arm and whispering to him, “You see I told you so.”</p><p>The detective softened and responded with a large smile hidden behind his glass of scotch and shook his head fondly, knowing he would get an earful in the car on the way home. With his long arm that was wrapped across the psychic’s chair, Carlton moved his hand so it rested on his shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly. However, when he realized what was coming next, all the joy and love drained from his face and was replaced with a scowl, causing Shawn to frown and furrow his brow.</p><p>With a gesture toward the other end of the table from the detective, Shawn turned to see Althea and Ms. Lassiter watching them interact, the former with fondness and the latter with the same intense, inspecting look her son got when he was working a case. </p><p>And, almost instantly, their moment was over.</p><p>Before that night, Shawn thought Lassie was intimidating, but, seeing that same look on his mother, the psychic was outright terrified. That look alone made him rethink everything he did since he walked into the front door.</p><p>“So, if you two are done doing your weird staring contest thing,” Ms. Lassiter interrupted Shawn’s mental crisis, much to Althea’s disapproval, evident with her dramatic eyebrow raise. “I think it’s time for the old Lassiter Lockdown.”</p><p>“Mother,” Carlton complained, setting his glass down on the table. “Don’t you think we could wait until after dinner for that?”</p><p>“He has a point, Mona,” Althea said, raising her eyebrows. “There’s no need to start this this early in the evening.”</p><p>“Start what? What’s a Lassiter Lockdown? Is that some sort of secret ancient ritual with fire and horribly suffocating robes?” Shawn questioned, looking worriedly between the three other people at the table.</p><p>“It’s just Truth or Truth, but it’s terribly one-sided,” Carlton answered grimly with a roll of his eyes. “Mother asks the questions and the other person answers them. You can opt out with a shot, but, trust me, you look incredibly guilty when you do.”</p><p>“Mmhm, ain’t that the truth,” Althea agreed with a nod of her head.</p><p>“Fine, fine, we’ll wait until after dinner. I’m getting hungry anyway,” Ms. Lassiter relented, standing up and heading back over to the kitchen. “You two go get washed up.”</p><p>As soon as she said those words, Carlton stood up and darted down the hallway, abandoning his drink completely. </p><p>Shawn shared a worried glance with Althea and elected to follow him, managing to remember the way he went and follow. Out of all the closed doors, he figured the detective was behind the one with the running water sounding from behind it. He leaned against the wall next to the door and waited patiently.</p><p>The water soon shut off and the door swung open to reveal Carlton. His eyes were wide, his jacket was folded over his arm, and his sleeves were rolled up. To anyone else, he would have looked like he was getting comfortable, but Shawn knew better than to believe that.</p><p>“Wanna talk?” Shawn asked, seeing the detective tense up and back away from him, even if it was a quarter of a step. But, nevertheless, Carlton nodded and walked down the hallway to a different door, opening it and leading him inside. </p><p>It was Carlton’s childhood bedroom. The room was decorated in a wild west theme, posters of Clint Eastwood and his various movies hung on the walls. What he guessed was his favorite was the poster above his bed, reading Heartbreak Ridge in large letters across the top. </p><p>Under any other circumstance, the psychic would have been ecstatic to be in this room, to examine his younger years, but something was wrong with his detective and he wasn’t going to let it slide any longer.</p><p>Shawn sat himself down on the bed, while Carlton threw his jacket on the numerous hooks behind the door and stood in the corner, his arms crossed over his chest defensively. Truth be told, he had no idea how to start this conversation. As great as he was with talking, the psychic was horrible with starting serious conversations.</p><p>His eyes met a medal hanging on one of the shelves. The picture of two figures in wrestling pictures piqued his interest. He attempted to initiate a conversation by saying, “You never told me you wrestled.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, I did.” The detective walked over to the medal, holding it gingerly in his hands. “Team captain and everything.”</p><p>The silence enveloped the two once more, Carlton sighing and continuing to pace in front of Shawn. Damn, it didn’t work. He needed to try a different avenue.</p><p>“So, Booker, huh?” Shawn tried again awkwardly, noticing the nickname being used multiple times during the evening. “What’s that all about?”</p><p>Carlton huffed and held a tight smile, scratching the back of his head. “It’s a just a stupid thing really.”</p><p>The smile on the psychic’s face only widened because he knew for sure that it was not some studpid thing to the detective. “Really? Let me be the judge of that.”</p><p>“Okay,” Carlton said quietly as he walked over to Shawn and sat down next to him. “When I was maybe four or five, some kid— Ricky McCoy— just walked up to me on the playground one day and socked me in the face. I mean, he really got me. Broken nose, blood everywhere. Must’ve looked like a tiny zombie from the Day of the Dead.”</p><p>“Is that how your nose got like that?”</p><p>“Like what?” The detective asked, furrowing his brow at the other man. Then he realized what he was talking about. “Oh, yeah, that bastard fucked up my nose and I never forgave him for that.”</p><p>Shawn laughed, looking down at assorted knick knacks on the floor. “Okay, Inigo Montoya, you still didn’t finish the story. What happened next?”</p><p>Carlton shifted his lingering gaze away from the psychic to his hands, toying with them in his lap. “Basically, after being punched in the face, I tackled the kid and ‘arrested’ him.”</p><p>The psychic looked up at him in surprise. “You did?”</p><p>“Yeah,” the detective said, nodding with pride. “Well, not exactly. I just held his hands behind his back and took him to the teacher.” </p><p>“Covered in blood?”</p><p>“Covered in blood.”</p><p>“Babe, that’s badass.”</p><p>“Well, that badass got sent home for the rest of the day. When my father picked me up after I continued arguing with the secretary to book him, he called me Booker and I suppose that nickname always stuck.”</p><p>The two sat in silence for a moment as the psychic processed the story. He looked up and met the other man’s eyes. They looked warmer, not as timid, but there was still something hiding in the depths of his bright blue eyes. Something holding him back.</p><p>His eyes shifting to his hands fidgeting in his lap, Shawn turned to him completely, his leg resting on the bed, and placed his hand on top of his detective’s. “What’s goin’ on, Lassifrass?”</p><p>Carlton laughed to himself as he moved to hold onto the hand. Of course, Shawn would know something was off. That was his “psychic” after all. “It’s just…” He trailed off and then looked back up suddenly. “Are you going to break up with me?”</p><p>Even though he didn’t know exactly how he looked, Shawn could guess he looked the most shocked person on the planet at that moment. “What the hell are you talking about?”</p><p>“You just said you wanted to talk and I know that I’m—” </p><p>Cradling the back of his head, Shawn silenced him with a kiss, before the detective could start degrading himself. He then pulled away and pressed another kiss to the other man’s forehead. With the hand resting on the back of his head, the psychic caressed the short greying hair with his thumb, feeling Carlton lean into the touch.</p><p>“I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. I promise.” He then leaned back and met the other’s eyes again, seeing the brewing storm calm. “What made you think I was?”</p><p>“I don’t know.” Carlton looked away guiltily and shrugged. “Victoria told me she wanted to separate for the first time in this very room five years ago to the day. Even though she didn’t go through with it until a few months later, I’ll never forget that moment. I guess I figured you’d do the same.”</p><p>“Is that why you didn’t want me to meet your mom today?”</p><p>Carlton nodded, laughing to himself at how stupid he sounded when he said, “Yeah, she’s not exactly the best with first impressions.”</p><p>“Seems like it’s hereditary,” Shawn mumbled, internally screaming in joy when he saw a smile spread slowly across his face. “I hate to tell you, Lassie, but you’re stuck with me. You’d have to do something drastic like not liking pineapples for me to even consider breaking up with you.”</p><p>“Well, now that you mention it—”</p><p>“Nope, nope, not listening,” Shawn took his hand away to cover his ears to attempt to hear him say those words. “You are walking on thin ice, buddy.”</p><p>“Shawn, for god’s sake.” He took his hands off his ears, holding them in his own. “I love pineapple, despite how much I think you consume it too much.”</p><p>“Oh con chair—”</p><p>“I don’t think that’s it.”</p><p>“Eh, I’ve heard it—”</p><p>“Don’t say it.”</p><p>“I’ve heard it both ways.”</p><p>He rolled his eyes with a hint of a smile and stood up, pulling Shawn up with him. “You will never stop being a thorn in my side, will you?”</p><p>“As long as I live and breathe, Lassie dear.” Shawn smiled and moved his hands to the other man’s hips, glad to see his detective happy again. </p><p>“Good.” Carlton pulled him into a kiss filled with every ounce of his love for the other man. Everything he wanted to say and couldn’t really put into words were expressed with the gentle tug of their intertwined hands, pulling them closer together. He used the other to cradle his jaw, while Shawn gripped onto the soft, white fabric of his dress shirt. Pulling away, the detective moved quickly, dragging Shawn along behind him. “Come on, let’s get outta here before my mother bursts in here, thinking we’re fucking on my twin bed.”</p><p>“Wait, Lassie,” Shawn said, still half-entranced by the kiss and following him without any second thought. “That’s on the table?”</p><p>“Let’s see how dinner goes first.”</p><p>With that, Carlton then let go of Shawn’s hand and walked out the door, leaving Shawn standing in the bedroom again for the second time tonight, calling out, “You have to stop doing that! You know I can’t catch up to you and your long legs!”</p><p>Following the detective out the door, Shawn arrived back in the dining room. Carlton was already helping his mother place the platters of food on the table.</p><p>From a distance, Shawn could already see all apprehension start to disappear. He was smiling, cracking jokes, and even rushing to pick up plates so Ms. Lassiter wouldn’t have to carry as many, even though that didn’t stop her from complaining. The sight awakened the butterflies resting in his stomach, causing them to flutter about. It also didn’t help that, with every plate Carlton carried, the lean muscles in his forearms pop. Honestly, the psychic could watch it all day and, from previous experience, he most definitely did.</p><p>“Shawn!” Carlton called out to him and grabbed his attention. The detective was arranging the forks, spoons, and knives on the table, not looking up until the psychic took some time to respond. “See something you like?”</p><p>Shawn blushed lightly at being caught staring and crossed to the dining room. “Yeah, that pot roast looks delicious.”</p><p>Carlton laughed and shook his head, putting down the final knife. He then wrapped around his waist and a kiss to the top of his head. </p><p>“What was that for?” The psychic smiled brightly up at him, receiving an equally wide smile in return. </p><p>“You know what that was for.” </p><p>Then, moving his hand to the small of his back, Carlton guided him over to his seat, pulling out his seat for Shawn. </p><p>“Such a gentleman,” he teased his detective as he sat down, laughing when the man in question simply rolled his eyes and sat down next to him.</p><p>“He better be,” Ms. Lassiter responded when she walked into the room with Althea, carrying the drinks in their hands. “I didn’t raise my boy not to be a gentleman.”</p><p>Shawn opened his mouth to make some lewd comment about Carlton’s ungentlemanly conduct in the bedroom, but a swift nudge in the shin and a stern look prevented him from saying anything Inwardly, the psychic couldn’t help but laugh at the amused glint in his eyes from the detective already knowing what comment he would make.</p><p>“You don’t have to worry, Ms. L. He is,” Shawn said to fill the silence, not ignoring the knowing look from Althea.  </p><p>Ms. Lassiter shared a look with Althea, who simply shrugged and went to sit down. </p><p>“Okay,” his mother said as she sat down and started to put food on her plate, signifying to the others that it was time to eat. Ms. Lassiter was still wary if Shawn was telling the truth. She knew her son. And she might have raised him to be a gentleman, but Mona knew that he had a tendency to be stubborn. “So, you said that you worked as a consultant. Is that how you met?”</p><p>“I thought we were saving the questions until after dinner,” Carlton spoke up, scooping some of the mashed potatoes onto his plate.</p><p>“I’m just tryna to make conversation, Booker.”</p><p>Rubbing the knot forming on his grumbling detective’s shoulder, Shawn turned to him and said, “It’s okay. You see, she’s only trying to make conversation.”</p><p>With a huff and an indignant stab into his pork, Carlton settled down. </p><p>Shawn then looked back to Ms. Lassiter with a pleasant smile on his face and answered by saying, “We actually met— what was it? Fourteen years ago? Fourteen years ago. Yeah, we met when my dad arrested me to make a sorry attempt to teach me a lesson—”</p><p>To try to ease the concerned look on both his mother’s and Althea’s face, the detective interrupted him and continued to explain, stating, “Basically, his dad told me to book him and, being the newbie I was, I was nervous and he just did it himself. Not before Shawn had the gall to wink at me.”</p><p>“‘Had the gall?’ Who says that?” Shawn critiqued, looking at him incredulously. “I winked at you because I thought your eagerness and your inability to take your handcuffs smoothly out of your pocket was adorable.”</p><p>Carlton blushed and looked back down at his food, grumbling out, “Shut up.”</p><p>Shawn smiled triumphantly and continued to eat his food happily. “Besides, even though you had that disgusting moustache, I would have totally—”</p><p>“Spencer—”</p><p>“—Asked you out,” the psychic finished, a smug glint in his eye when he glanced at his detective. He only rolled his eyes in response. “What? I’m being serious. I would.”</p><p>To prevent himself from revealing the deepening blush on his cheeks even more, Carlton picked up his glass and hid behind it, even though he knew that a) the tumbler was clear and b) the tumbler was empty. </p><p>While Shawn and Carlton continued to bicker on the beginnings of their relationship, Althea couldn’t help but laugh at their antics. </p><p>“They are so cute it makes my stomach hurt,” Ms. Lassiter grumbled in such a way that made it difficult to decipher whether it was a compliment or an insult. </p><p>With a soft shake of her head, Althea took a sip of her drink and chided her, saying, “Mona, lighten up. They’re happy.”</p><p>“Yeah, remember when we were like that?” </p><p>“And we aren’t now?” Althea questioned, raising an eyebrow at her.</p><p>And, with that, both sides of the table were bickering in their own conversations all while eating Christmas Eve dinner.</p><p>By the time the four of them were finished with dinner and more than one glass of their respective choice of alcohol were consumed, the conversation lulled from the excitement of bickering to stories from Carlton’s childhood.</p><p>“Shawn, you know Booker here wanted to be a figure skater when he was four?” Ms. Lassiter asked, smiling at the eye roll from her son across the table. </p><p>“Oh, no I did not,” Shawn responded, a growing smile on his face. “Lassie, why didn’t you tell me? That means we are definitely going ice skating.”</p><p>“I don’t know, sweetheart. I’m afraid I might be a bit rusty.” Carlton raised an eyebrow as he leaned back in his seat, his arm tossed around the psychic’s shoulders.</p><p>Shawn scoffed and looked him up and down. “With your lanky frame, please, I bet you haven’t lost your game one bit.”</p><p>Carlton smirked and raised an eyebrow in agreement, going to take another sip of his drink, only to find it empty again. “Okay, I’m gonna go fill ‘em up. Anyone else?”</p><p>“I’m good,” Shawn replied, patting his detective’s hand that was resting on his shoulder. </p><p>“Same here,” Ms. Lassiter said as well, sending a glance over to Althea.</p><p>Althea held her wine glass out, knowing what was happening next and wanting to be prepared for it. “Gonna need it.”</p><p>Carlton nodded as well as he too seemed to recognize what was about to go down. Knowing his mother, once Mona Lassiter stopped drinking her scotch, it was time for business and that business was the one and only Lassiter Lockdown. He then took her glass and went to the kitchen.</p><p>Once he was out of the room, Ms. Lassiter turned to Shawn, all joy and glee from the buzz of scotch gone in an instant. All Shawn could think was that she was truly Carlton’s mother.</p><p>“The game is simple. I ask questions and you answer. If you don’t want to answer, drink and bear the consequences,” she spoke quickly, folding her hands on the table. “You got me?”</p><p>“Clear as Mariah Carey singing ‘All I Want for Christmas is You’ in the middle of a grocery store during Christmas time,” the psychic replied instantly, no hesitation or fear in his voice. “Let’s do this thang.”</p><p>Althea smirked as she started to take up the plates from in front of them. When she reached in front of Ms. Lassiter, she whispered something in her ear that made the other woman purse her lips and narrow her eyes.</p><p>Althea disappeared into the kitchen with the plates soon after and then Ms. Lassiter focused on Shawn again. </p><p>“Where are you from?” Ms. Lassiter asked, her first question tamer than Shawn thought it would be.</p><p>“I’m from here, ma’am.”</p><p>“Okay, smartass, any brothers or sisters?”</p><p>“Nope, just me.”</p><p>“Well, that explains a lot,” she whispered to herself as she thought of more questions to ask him. “Dad and mom?”</p><p>“Divorced when I was seventeen. My mom moved to San Francisco and I stayed here in Santa Barbara with my dad.”</p><p>Ms. Lassiter nodded slowly, peering her eyes at him as she studied him and his movements.</p><p>Feeling his heartbeat racing in his chest, Shawn attempted to ease it. These questions weren’t all that hard, but, for some reason, her gaze bore into his soul in a way that terrified him.</p><p>“What are your intentions with my son?” She asked bluntly, her voice and intense gaze unwavering.</p><p>Shawn stared at her for what seemed to him as a long time. What were his intentions with Lassie? For all she was concerned, he wasn’t going to just bang him and leave his bed empty the next morning. That might have been what started their relationship after Shawn woke up in Lassie’s bed after getting too drunk at his high school reunion. Then the whole Drimmer thing happened and the aftermath of that case made them both question what they truly wanted. Even if they didn’t really say it to each other, Shawn and Carlton had a mutual understanding that feelings were involved. </p><p>It wasn’t until after the finalization of Lassie’s divorce that they even addressed the fact that there were feelings involved. Lassie nearly yelled his love for him on his doorstep at one in the morning. It was surreal and altogether not what he expected, but it was certainly what he needed to hear.</p><p>“Well, I’ll tell you this much, Ms. L,” Shawn started after taking a moment to think over his answer. “Over the past three years that I’ve known him—”</p><p>“I thought you two met fourteen years ago?”</p><p>“We did,” Shawn clarified, toying with his hands on the table. “But, I’ve really only known Lassie for the past three years.”</p><p>Ms. Lassiter nodded and waved a hand, gesturing for him to go on with the story.</p><p>“Anyway, over the past three years, I’ve seen him go through denying his divorce, accepting his divorce, being falsely accused for murder, denying his feelings for me— which were painfully obvious— and finally accepting his feelings for me. And never once did he give up when there were definitely times that he should have.”</p><p>“The point, Shawn?” She asked, raising her eyebrow. Shawn couldn’t help but notice the small glimmer of something in her eye. “I’m beginning to think that you just like to hear yourself talk.”</p><p>“I do. I think I have a very soothing timbre,” the psychic said, clearing his throat as he processed what he wanted to say without trailing off into a tangent about how obvious her son’s feelings for him were, but deciding to save that conversation for another time. “But the point is that he deserves someone that will make him happy. Even though most days you look at us and he looks like he wants to kill me, I know that, deep, deep, deep down behind his condensating—”</p><p>“Do you mean ‘condescending?’” </p><p>“Eh, I’ve heard it both ways.” Shawn smiled weakly, feeling his heart pound in his chest in anticipation and nervousness, before picking up right where he left off, “Behind his condensating glare and his snide remarks, Lassie truly cares so much about me and everyone else around him. His need to go down in a hailstorm of bullets isn’t because he wants to be heroic. Sure, it’s another good thing to come out of it, but it’s really because, if he doesn’t do it, then someone else would— someone who has more to lose than he thinks he has. But, little does he know, he has me, his partner Jules, most of the people at the station, and you and Althea.”</p><p>Shawn took a deep breath and looked down at his hands, drumming the beat to his detective’s danger music on the table. “Long story short, I love him and I will do whatever it takes to show him that I do as long as I can. That’s it. Hell, I’ve never been one for commitment, but, if it meant that he smiled just a bit whenever he said it, I would settle down in a heartbeat. We’ve been together for nearly six months and I already practically live with him, so I don’t see what’s the big deal. If he was down, I definitely wouldn’t be opposed to him calling me his boyfriend. It makes me feel like a trophy wife—”</p><p>“I got it, I got all I need,” Ms. Lassiter stopped him from going any further, holding up a hand in the air. </p><p>“That’s it?” Shawn asked incredulously, looking up with a furrowed brow. “I don’t need to say anything else?”</p><p>“Oh, God, please don’t.”</p><p>Shawn laughed, the tension in his shoulders releasing. The alcohol is one hell of a way to get information out of someone and Ms. Lassiter knew that very well.</p><p>“Well,” Shawn started, raising his eyebrows expectantly and opening his hands. “Did I pass the old Lassiter Lockdown?”</p><p>Ms. Lassiter thought about it for a second and then said, “You did… today, but we’ll see about next time.”</p><p>Seeing the fond, warm glint in her eyes, the same one that flooded his detective’s whenever he bested him at a crime scene, Shawn smiled widely. “Awesome!”</p><p>As he stood up to go find his detective in the other room, the psychic saw Carlton standing in the doorway, leaning on the wooden frame of the door. Shawn couldn’t help but smile softly. For a man so tall, he looked so small at the same time.</p><p>“You mean all that?” The detective whispered when he reached him, placing his hand on his hip and pulling him in.</p><p>Shawn scoffed, glancing behind him. “What? Are you kidding? Of course, I do. I’m not a liar.”</p><p>Carlton raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to contest that statement, but, before he said anything, he thought again and shut his mouth, choosing to take a sip of his scotch instead. </p><p>Shawn watched his thought process play out and smacked his arm, saying, “Hey!”</p><p>The detective smiled smugly, his eyes lingering on his face as he passed by him. “I think we’re gonna turn in. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”</p><p>Ms. Lassiter nodded and stood up, opening her arms for her son to hug her, which, despite his grumbling, he reciprocated gladly. “Just be sure to be up at eight to open presents.”</p><p>“Okay, mother,” he said, his voice muffled by the fabric on her shoulder. “See you in the morning.”</p><p>Shawn followed suit, holding his hand out for a handshake. To his surprise, he was yanked in for a hug, pulled down to meet her level, stammering out, “Oh, okay, we’re doing this.”</p><p>While in this position, Ms. Lassiter whispered in his ear, “If you so much as hurt my son in any way, I will not hesitate to hunt you down and make you pay. You get me?”</p><p>Hearing this threat, Shawn glanced over to his detective to see him hugging and saying goodnight to Althea. Then he nodded and whispered back, “I do. I do get you. Honestly, I wouldn’t blame you if you—”</p><p>Ms. Lassiter pulled away from the hug, knowing that the psychic would talk for hours on end if given the chance and patted him on the shoulder. “Good, good. I’m glad we understand each other.”</p><p>With that, the short woman took her glass and went into the kitchen. </p><p>Shawn went over to Althea and opened his arms for a hug. She laughed and gave him one. </p><p>“Goodnight, dear.” Althea let him go, holding onto his elbows. “I told you everything was going to be okay.”</p><p>“I think it was my undeniable charm and ruggedly handsome looks.”</p><p>“Sure, you keep thinkin’ that.” She smiled and patted his arm again, before leaving him standing in the living room. He looked behind him to see Althea go over and wrap her arms around Ms. Lassiter’s waist, pressing a kiss onto the back of her head.</p><p>Shawn smiled and noticed Carlton had disappeared. He figured that the detective just went back to the room instead of waiting for him awkwardly in the corner. Going down the hallway, he remembered the door that they went in earlier and opened it, walking inside. </p><p>Before Shawn could comprehend what was going on, he was pushed gently against the door and kissed passionately. Carlton fisted the green, red, and yellow fabric of his plaid shirt to which Shawn responded by wrapping his arms around the detective’s neck. </p><p>Once the initial shock passed, the psychic deepened the kiss, electing to run his hands into the short greying hair at the base of his neck. </p><p>Then Carlton pulled away, choosing to instead engulf the smaller man into a tight hug. He took a deep breath and smelled the familiar scent of pina colada and Axe that wasn’t as disgusting as it seemed. “You would really want to become my boyfriend?”</p><p>“After I spilled the beans about almost everything to your mom? Most definitely. I think she expects it by this point,” Shawn noted as he started to untuck the detective’s shirt enough to slide his hands underneath.</p><p>The detective chuckled at the invasive touch, definitely not complaining, and kissed his neck. “Then that settles it. You’re my boyfriend.”</p><p>Shawn hummed as the kisses continued to move up toward his mouth once more, mumbling, “I suppose we should tell Juliet.”</p><p>“Oh, there’s no need. She might’ve seen us making out in the records room.”</p><p>“Oh, well, that’s good—” the psychic was interrupted when the detective placed a slow, lingering kiss against his lips. </p><p>Then Carlton stepped back, a happy smile gracing his lips. He moved over to the bed and sat down to remove the gun and ankle holster, placing them in the drawer next to the bed, with his shoes following after. </p><p>“Timing,” Shawn finished his sentence slowly, watching his detective start to unbutton his shirt. “Babe, you know I can’t focus when you do that.”</p><p>Said detective frowned as he set his shirt aside neatly. “Do what?”</p><p>“You know…” the psychic trailed off, gesturing to his general direction as he removed his pants as well. “That.”</p><p>Trying to find out what he meant, Carlton looked down at himself and then, once he did, back at Shawn with an unimpressed to disguise the blush illuminating his face. He started to don his matching set of pajamas that he always seemed to keep with him, much to Shawn’s chagrin. “I’m tired and I’m going to bed.”</p><p>“Can I join you?” Shawn asked, already starting to strip off his clothes in the most unorganized way possible.</p><p>“What kind of question is that? Of course, you can,” the detective grumbled as he walked over to the bed, stopping in front of his boyfriend to stab a finger into his bare chest. “But, if you steal the covers, I swear to sweet lady justice you will sleep on the floor.”</p><p>“Gotcha, babe. No stealing covers.”</p><p>“And no kicking me in the middle of the night.”</p><p>Shawn looked over to the bed and nodded in agreement. “That’s fair enough. It’s a twin. You’d go flying.”</p><p>With a tired roll of his eyes, the detective climbed into the bed with the psychic following right behind him. Once they were under the covers, Shawn immediately latched onto the older man and laid his head on his chest. Despite all of the talk at the table, he was definitely the little spoon. He just liked to see the tips of Lassie’s ears turn bright red.</p><p>“So, here’s the plan for tomorrow,” Carlton started to say after they cuddled on the twin bed as comfortably as they could. “First, we open gifts here. Next, we go home. Shower, eat lunch, do whatever. Then go to Henry’s house for dinner.”</p><p>“Question: does the ‘do whatever’ include my insanely hot, lanky boyfriend?” Shawn mumbled into his boyfriend’s neck.</p><p>The heat rose to the surface of the detective’s skin in a blush. “Yes, it most certainly does.”</p><p>“Follow-up question: does that mean you will show me your wrestling moves?”</p><p>Carlton smiled into the darkness, mumbling groggily, already half-asleep, “I don’t think you’re ready for that.”</p><p>“Oh, I’m definitely ready for that.” Shawn hummed and chuckled, burying his head into the back of his neck when he felt the detective’s breath start to even. “G’night, Lassie.”</p><p>“Night, sweetheart. I love you.”</p><p>“I love you too.”</p>
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